Paris match

LISA CREGANLisa Cregan, a frequent contributor to the Magazine, also writes for House BeautifulCHICAGO TRIBUNE

Michael Del Piero spends a lot of time thinking about where things belong. "I've never been one of those people who says, 'Buy it if you love it and you'll find a place for it,' " says the interior designer and owner of a new Damen Avenue home furnishings store, Michael Del Piero Good Design. "To me, placement is everything."

Her biggest challenge recently, though, wasn't deciding where to put an antique or plunk an ottoman, it was figuring out where to place herself. Was she ready to move out of the Wilmette house she'd loved for the last dozen years? Could she move her busy interiors business to the city? And what about her girls?

In the end, she left the decision up to the gods of admission. "My daughter really wanted to go to the Chicago Academy for the Arts, so we made a deal: If she got in, we'd move downtown." When the fat envelope bearing her daughter's name arrived in the mail, they were off and running.

"I decided I wanted to live in the most urban place I could find," says Del Piero. But even that left choices. She and her two teenage daughters could go for high-rise living, or maybe they'd decide to live in a townhouse in a high-sizzle neighborhood like Bucktown. Del Piero finally opted for a third choice, a second-floor walk-up in a vintage Streeterville rowhouse.

"I think it looks like Paris," she says delightedly. Apparently her vision of "urban" didn't necessarily mean the Chicago version; what Del Piero was really hoping for was something a little more la vie boheme.

And in some ways, Del Piero is very much an old-fashioned bohemian, never happier than when she's trekking the globe collecting uncommon treasures for her shop and her clients. She's an artifact omnivore who says that an object's patina is what makes it come alive for her.

Then once she gets home with her haul, the fun begins all over again. One of Del Piero's greatest talents is pulling together deeply layered, nuanced tableaux like the one on her living room mantel, an elaborate arrangement of objects and charcoal drawings that seems casual, but in reality took hours to get just right.

"I like things edited down and very, very detailed," she explains. One of the mantel items, a turquoise matte framing a ragged 1825 marriage certificate, reveals Del Piero's unabashed romanticism. "Its only purpose is to be beautiful," she admits.

Endlessly fascinated by the juxtaposition of boldly modern pieces with ancient artifacts, Del Piero's flat is scattered with streamlined furniture punctuated by textural elements like antique statuary and centuries-old Chinese vessels. "For me, the upholstered pieces are just to sit on," she says, "It's really all about the objects, the art and the lighting."

It's hard to resist wondering where she found almost all the objects here, like the flowing golden wall hanging on the dining room wall. "It's an African cloth draped over a twig," explains Del Piero,. "An ice storm knocked the branches off a tree near my house, I collected them, and this one seemed perfect to hang the cloth on." Only Del Piero would think to save (and pack and move) intriguing storm debris. "I like large-scale things like this," she says, "objects that have presence."

Recently, she celebrated her new city life with a group of friends, including her beau, Stuart Grannen, owner of Architectural Artifacts. She lit the candles on her chandelier and watched the light flicker off a framed tapestry that was woven from gold and silver thread in a French nunnery. She placed palm fronds and tree branches on the table and served food in African bowls, seashells and Argentinean mortars. She filled a long, narrow, wooden French bowl with olives and passed them down the table.

Then, she says, she "stood back, looked at all my things and was inspired by them." It's easy to see how she felt.